Viande Dure
by under.spectra
Summary: Hannibal wants Will close. Always leave it to the patient to shock the doctor.


My first Hannigram!

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Will sat, agitated and confused and piecing together his reality. It was nothing new for Dr. Lecter to witness. The sweat damp curls, the shaky shoulders and the knotted muscles beneath. Will sat on the edge of Hannibal's dining room table, fresh from a fainting spell. He had a leg hitched up to the edge and he was rocking slightly, panicked but stable. Hannibal brought him a dull smelling tea that Will wouldn't take. The doctor was unsure if Will could even see it. "Say your name, state where you are," he instructed.

Will shook and looked anywhere but in front of him, baiting the doctor closer. Hannibal, like he had done countless times before, didn't hesitate to invade the space between them, stepping in toward the table, and Will dragged him the rest of the way.

Fingers curled into his belt and Hannibal was pulled up against the table, close enough to feel Will's heavy breathing and the heat coming off of him. He took in his patients rigid back line; the fingers curling tighter into his clothes. Hannibal held up his hands but kept his face even. He meant to speak, to instruct, when he was pulled froward by his neck tie. Moist lips locked onto his as Will held him there, wrapping the neck tie around in his fist. Hannibal stifled a noise. Will was strong.

"You think I am someone else," Hannibal tried when he twisted away from his patients mouth. He thought for an instant Will was imagining Alana Bloom, all ties and thick belt buckles aside, but Will replied immediately.

"Lecter, Hannibal Lecter," he huffed, squeezing his legs around the doctor and inching up to the tables edge. He used Hannibal's hip to balance, to get friction to his erection. Hannibal's hand fell to the table, effectively bowing Will's back line while he covered his gasp from the contact.

Hannibal had done everything that he could to keep Will close up until this point. He'd gone so far as to risk killing him to save him. He was content to do it again, anything to keep Will close but far enough away that he wouldn't know what he was until the time was right. Will Graham was _his_, but not like this. He never imagined it like this. All the ties Hannibal was making with Will, he didn't know it would add up to the salty wet tongue lapping into his mouth, working him open until he was grunting. Will released Lecter's mouth, starring back at him with searing, tired eyes, and Hannibal starred back. He breathed, shorter breathes, looking down at a man who was getting the better of him. Then Will was kissing and pushing and curling into him, fucking up against him on the table. "Need it...come on...taste me...," he begged. The doctor shook him off, starring wildly down at his patient now.

"Taste you," Hannibal repeated, his blood running cold all at once. _Tasting_ Will Graham, touching Will Graham, Hannibal's mind swirled and curled around all the ideas in his head pertaining to Will. The shirt was ripped open, Hannibal bent Will's head by hand, revealing the length of his patients pale neck. He breathed on it once, hot and long, then he bit in. It was quick but Will caught his breath in a yell and tried to jerk away. Hannibal caught him and squeezed the wound, knew where to squeeze to minimize the pain. His eyes followed the blood trail down and he licked it back up, licked over the bite, gasped against Will Graham's ear and misbehaving hair. He wrapped the younger man into his arms to keep from orgasm, breathing Will in, petting through his hair.

"Come on," he heard Will plead.

Cautiously he untangled himself from his patient, who's eyes were black and electric. Will sagged backwards on the table, leaning on an arm, his shirt ripped, fresh blood pooling on the wound. He unbuckled his belt and pants, watching Hannibal quietly.

He rubbed over the dark cotton bulge, moving farther back onto the table so that he was laying on it, his head hit the surface. He starred at the too bright light, waiting. And Hannibal followed.

It was juvenile, what Will was suggesting, but Dr. Lecter didn't care. He settled over Will, between his legs, a hand hitching a leg up along his hip. Will starred at the light until it hurt and his eyes rolled back into his head at the same time he moved his arms up over the edge of the table. Hannibal rutted against him, making every thrust count. He sucked at the blood, licked up Will's neck, fucked between the fabric. On some level he wanted to really fuck Will, he wanted to see the cum. Hannibal looked down at the encouraging thickness trapped in Will's briefs. The boy could keep it. Will moaned and bucked and chocked on screams as Hannibal got them off. He could fill his pants will cum, make a complete mess. Hannibal liked the idea, so he made it happen.

Every hitch and cry was a sign Will was close and Hannibal watched him with hawks eyes, bringing him over the edge. Will fucked up against Hannibal blindly, arms still positioned uselessly above his head. Hannibal imagined the hot wad filling Will's cotton briefs, filling them up and getting them sticky. Then he was on Will, on his neck biting into him. Will screamed and Hannibal forced his arms down, pinned them like they'd begged to be pinned before. He sucked and breathed and chewed a little at the swollen flesh, and then he was cumming too, riding out his orgasm so hard his knees ached on the table top. He bucked until it was over, still moving just for the sake of it. Just to feel the wetness and the jolts he received in turn from Will.

His patient no longer shook. His mind wasn't racing, he wasn't confused, he was calm; sated. Hannibal brought Will's arms down from above his head and he winced, eyes closed. He couldn't just fall asleep on the table like this. Hannibal slid him off, leaning him up against it, half standing. "On your feet," he told him quietly. Will followed with drowsy steps as his doctor laid him down on a couch. His pants were zipped and his belt was buckled, trapping whatever mess he made inside. Will nuzzled into the fabric and Hannibal carded a hand through the damp raven curls.

He would try to convince Will to forget about this. He would fuck him into his mattress after that. He was sure Will would let him. Things like this took time and he had so many plans for Will. Hannibal's heart flipped at the ideas.

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End~


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